


History Makers

by Pastel_Teacups



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: F/F, Female Alexei Mashkov, Female Kent Parson, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:13:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24381874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pastel_Teacups/pseuds/Pastel_Teacups
Summary: Kate Parson is one of the first three women to be drafted into the Nation Men’s Hockey League. She recognizes one girl from a faceoff in the Q, and the other’s a Russian transplant from a junior league over there. They take photos together, at the draft in their respective jerseys, but they don’t really talk.And that’s it. Kate’s in the NHL. Now all she has to do is keep proving everyone wrong - every day, every game. There isn’t another option.
Relationships: Alexei "Tater" Mashkov/Kent "Parse" Parson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	History Makers

Kate’s always been the odd girl out. 

She’s used to it. When she signed up for the Q - the _boy’s_ Q - she hadn’t even expected a response, let alone a rejection. But she’d gotten in. She’d made it, and became one of a handful of girls in Juniors. 

She was never on a team with those other girls, rarely got to see them. Most of them dropped off, replaced with another promising female player, usually. But Kate stuck with it. And when the time came she told her agent that she wasn’t interested in the NWHL, but the _NHL._

It had caused a stir, to say the least. 

But Kate knew what she wanted, had the statistics to back herself up. She was just as good as any male prospect, if not better. Some trashy articles asserted that pregnancy would be an issue, with a woman in the NHL. Another predicted that she wouldn’t be nearly as strong drafted onto a team without Jack Zimmermann. 

She doesn’t read the really bad articles, asserting the idea that Jack and Kate are romantically involved, that his talent and last name was the sole thing pushing Kate forward. 

Then, the draft comes. She goes first, without Jack, proving wrong more than a few of those articles. 

Kate Parson is one of the first three women to be drafted into the Nation Men’s Hockey League. She recognizes one girl from a faceoff in the Q, and the other’s a Russian transplant from a junior league over there. They take photos together, at the draft in their respective jerseys, but they don’t really talk. 

And that’s it. Kate’s in the NHL. Now all she has to do is keep proving everyone wrong - every day, every game. There isn’t another option. 

She establishes a point streak off the bat. Talks game like she’s supposed to, gets along with the guys like she’s supposed to. Gets a game-winner, almost every time. She doesn’t talk about Jack, she doesn’t think about Jack. She doesn’t have time for it. 

Until she sees _Missed Call: Jack Zimmermann _on the home screen of her phone.__

__There’s no voicemail. It sticks with Kate all day, even after she shoves the phone to the bottom of her gym bag and hurries to practice._ _

__She waits until she’s home to look at her phone again, steps into the bathroom and swallows two pills from an unmarked bottle before she comes back into the living room and sits on her couch, phone between her hands._ _

__The house is quiet as she takes measured breaths, stares at her dark screen. Her hair is wet and dripping onto the back of her shirt in two long braids behind her, hastily woven after her shower. She knows it’ll be wavy when it dries and she takes them out to sleep, but she doesn’t care. It’s routine, at this point. Easier to put the hair away rather than remind the boys of it, draw yet another stark difference between them. It’d taken them long enough to stop being weird about her in the shower._ _

___We play the game,_ Kate’s voice fills her own head, recalling the statement she’d given three weeks ago when asked, again, about the locker room dynamics. _As a team. It’s an adjustment, sure, but I’m not willing to alienate myself and the rest of my team by needing my own space. My team respects me and respects that I’m on their team, and that extends to the locker room. It’s a change, but this is about embracing that and coming back every season as a stronger and more accepting league.__ _

__James, the Aces’ GM, loves that sound byte. He says it makes her sound managerial, dynamic. She’s not sure she’ll be able to say it all again without rolling her eyes._ _

__She brushes away the memory and focuses on the task at hand. Takes a deep breath, and opens her phone._ _

__Just the one phone call. No voicemail, no messages. Kate wonders if Jack still has the last voicemail she’d left him, where she’d frantically begged him to pick up the phone. Sick to her stomach, positive something was wrong when she flew in for the draft and he wasn’t there._ _

__She never got a call back. She read about the overdose the night before the draft, cried herself to sleep in a hotel room by herself, hundreds of miles away and absolutely powerless to help._ _

__Her finger’s hovering over Jack’s contact in her phone, over the little picture of them grinning at one another at some party with red cups in their hands, too close for friendly comfort, when another phone call comes in and makes her jump._ _

__She doesn’t recognize the number. Providence, Rhode Island. As far away as anything. Distantly she remembers she’ll be there in a week, for her game against the Falconers. She doesn’t know what possesses her to answer, but she does._ _

__“Hello?” She murmurs as she brings her phone to her ear, mouth dry._ _

__The voice on the other side of the phone is bright, loud, surprising. Thickly accented. “Hello! Is this Kate Parson?”_ _

__She can’t quite place the accent. Russian, maybe? The only accent she knows intimately is the beloved New York. And, of course, the French-Canadian._ _

__“Yeah.” She says finally, guarded. “Who’s this?”_ _

__“My name is Alexis Mashkov. Rookie on Falconers - meet you at draft.”_ _

__Oh, shit. Kate remembers her, that Russian girl she’d posed beside along with the girl that went to the Schooners. Kate had been the shortest, arranged in the center of the two others, Mashkov’s arm wrapped around her shoulders. Kate hadn’t felt like smiling, but she had in the picture anyways. She’d faked it pretty well, too._ _

__“Alexis. Hey. Yeah, I remember you.” She leans back on her couch, trying to feel comfortable, even though she feels trapped and vulnerable by the unexpected call. “Uh, what’s up?”_ _

__Mashkov hums through the phone, like she’s pleased Kate remembers her, like it would be difficult to remember one of the few women she saw that day._ _

__“Wanted to talk. Heard you on point streak, is big. You doing good.”_ _

__Maybe it’s because Kate’s spent her whole life around men, maybe she’s just antisocial. She never calls anyone just to _talk_. It feels like a trick, though the rational part of her mind tells her it’s not. “Oh. Thanks, yeah. Y‘know, can’t really give ‘em an opportunity to see you slip, right? How’s it going for you?” _ _

__For some reason the idea that someone looks at her stats, that someone cares in a non-malicious way, sends some emotion from her chest to her stomach. She can’t place it, and she isn’t sure she wants to._ _

__“Not as fast as you, but building good rep. Guys like me, not think I’m weird anymore.” Alexis’ voice sounds happy over the phone, and it makes Kate smile. She’s glad, she really is._ _

__“All the guys are weird. Can’t be normal, playing pro hockey. Right?”_ _

__It makes Alexis laugh a little. “Exactly!” She sounds a little relieved. Kate briefly realizes Alexis was nervous, calling her. Kate can’t blame her - she’d never go through with it herself. “Looking forward to playing game with you. You fast, but not too fast for me.”_ _

__Kate laughs at that. Chirping. She can do chirping. “Yeah? I don’t know, I’m not trying to fuck up my point streak, Mashkov.”_ _

__Alexis hums out a little snicker. “Yeah, but I’m establish my worth, yes? Besides,” Alexis continues, and Kate’s smile widens, “You take check like girl.”_ _

__It startles a laugh out of Kate. “Oh yeah? Well we’ll just have to figure out who’s the better player next week. That is, if you can catch up with me.”_ _

__Alexis returns her laugh, and it feels good. Being friendly like this. Kate had never made it a point to be friends with any of the girls in Juniors - it always felt competitive, pointless, a grab at something she couldn’t have. But like this - joking around, talking about stats, talking shit - it feels relieving. Like she’s finally talking to someone who gets it._ _

__“Like I say, you fast, but not too fast for me. I catch you, Parson, don’t worry, we play real game. Show boys how is done, yes?”_ _

__“I can’t wait.” Kate tells her, and she really can’t. It might be nice, seeing someone who can tell her how they’re dealing with it, how it’s been. Comparing notes sounds good. So, she bites the bullet impulsively and asks, “We could also do dinner or something, after?”_ _

__There’s a pause on the other line. It’s not a long pause, but it’s long enough to make Kate briefly regret every choice she’d made in the last ten or so minutes - picking up the phone, being friendly with Mashkov, and of _course_ asking her to hang out. _ _

__But then the other line explodes with Alexis’ loud voice, sounding upbeat. “Would love that, Parson! You come over, we watch very bad movies and get Chinese food. Will be fun.”_ _

__It’s even more than she expected. But she likes the idea so she nods, then remembers Alexis can’t see her, and tries again. “Yeah. That sounds really great. And I’ll let you pick the movie, since I’m gonna mop the ice up with you. You’ll need a pick-me-up.”_ _

__

__Alexis snorts. “Yeah right. Winner pick movie, Parson, we see.”_ _

__They talk for a little longer, shoot the shit, before Alexis starts talking about time zones and practice sabotage and Kate tells her goodbye. It’s getting dark out in Vegas, too, and she gets up and leaves her phone on the couch to take out her braids and get ready for bed, the intention behind picking up her phone in the first place forgotten._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know if you'd like me to continue this - I like the story but I have no idea where it might go!


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